Doryce: yeah yeah right, raves. thet's where the hunks are, raves.
Gladyce: sore subject?
Doryce: they always got me sore. the spinning mauveine disco lights got me dizzy without my glasses on.
Gladyce: got your map? anything jotable?
Doryce: bubble map i mean i got my bubble mask on. it's coming down now. mix in a water, snow. turn and test. let's see, which way? mercy. here comes a train.
the distinguished ladies have reached the other end, with the same monster from the front entrance. the train peels in through the tongue. Bama is squashed like a bug on the windshield of the lead car, his lips kissing the metal, his face part of the paint job.
Doryce: hi Bama!
Gladyce waves her last finger on her hand. she manages to crush the sleeper car like an aluminum Coke can and fashions a carve to form it into a makeshift sled with no blades. it's thin enough if a little light.
Gladyce: mush.
Doryce: no it's an alright build all things considered.
Gladyce: *softly* we did not want to be on that train. that train does not stop. i chose the sleeper car cos no one sleeps aboard that train. they are too busy standing up contemplating their existence forever. it becomes more cruel the more you think about it and the more you ride it.
Doryce: luckily our boy Bama is on the outside riding it. i'm sure once he wakes up he'll crawl into the window of the dining car and have his fill.
Doryce is noticing. Gladyce stills breathes lowly. her lung function is faint. her heart is sleeping. she does not move.
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Kim Jong-un crashes his golf cart into the William Sisters' tennis cart in the middle of the desert where he's hiding.
Venus Williams: what's the big deal? why are all these drones in my face? why do the stoic stalkerbots not recognizie me and treat me like some ghost they've seen for the frst time and must analyze? what's with the media attention? i have played my sister before.
Kim: i'm just here blending into Indian Wells high society. you drink a lot of water here? um, can you direct me to the Party? i'm late.
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Doryce: Maersk Island in the offing! we must be getting warmer...................Sahara Sun on my far left!...............................i know what you're thinking, the suntanning bed or the real thing?...........................i see another stage, this one with Stone books. great, just what we need, more drama.
the hags of heft are are stopped by border patrol. one of the agents has a Menehune for a face which talks. the other agent looks like Josh Duhamel. Doryce smiles sheepishly for the both of them.
Menehune: ma'am we're gonna have to confiscate your things and your persons. what were you doing in this fright at night?
Doryce: seeing things.
Menehune: ma'am just what is going on? what do you have to declare? what nefariousness were you planning? why do you and your sister here have fingernails as long as Jack In The Box curly fries? and what is that strange spell scribbled in carving at the back of your red sled?
THE LATE PHOENIX: I WANTED TO BE FAMOUS. INSTEAD, I HAVE THIS BLOG.
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